Sleeptalker
by imdeadsothere
Summary: Ron can't figure out why Harry is acting so strangely, could it all be because of something he said in a dream? Something he doesn't even remember saying? ONE-SHOT. SLASH.


Ron groaned in the morning sunlight. He blinked slowly opening his eyes. His curtains were open and across from him he could see Harry sitting on the edge of his bed, staring down at his hands.

"Mornin' mate," Ron said, startling Harry who hadn't noticed he'd woken up, "you alright?"

"What? Oh, yeah, fine," Harry quickly replied, turning back towards his hands.

"Harry…" Ron began.

"Just leave it, Ron," Harry whispered. Ron just up. He really wanted to help Harry, but he didn't want to intrude either. Why did he have to be so bad at these kinds of things. He settled for just laying in bed and watching Harry instead.

He didn't really care if Harry noticed, Harry looked a bit out of it anyway, so Ron freely partook in the view. And by Merlin it was beautiful, _Harry_ was beautiful. No, he was more than that, gorgeous, stunning, perfect. People always commented on Harry's messy hair, or his pale skin, but Ron loved them. Harry was one of those people he could honestly stand next to and not feel like a snowman with chicken pox.

"What are you looking at?" Harry asked so suddenly, Ron hadn't even had to time to notice that Harry had caught him staring.

"You," Ron replied.

"Please don't," Harry whispered.

"Harry, please tell me what's wrong?"

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?" Harry said suddenly.

"No, why? Did I say something?" Harry was silent.

"Harry I…" Ron began, but Harry cut him off.

"Please, I don't want to talk about it," Harry said, "I'm gonna shower," he added, to no one in particular. Grabbing a towel and some clothes Harry headed for the restroom, leaving a very confused Ron behind.

What the hell could he have said?

Harry managed to avoid him the rest of the day, even going to far as to partner with Neville in potions. Ron really couldn't figure out what was wrong.

"Ron, is everything okay with you and Harry?" Hermione asked as they both watched Harry flee the room as soon as their last class of the day, transfiguration, ended.

"I don't know," Ron replied, "he looked kind of down this morning and I asked him about it but, he didn't really say much."

"What did he say?" Ron shrugged.

"Something about me talking in my sleep," Ron replied. Hermione's brow furrowed, she was clearly deep and thought. When suddenly her face cleared, her eyes going wide, her lips forming a small 'oh.'

"Hermione? D'you know what's…"

"Not now Ron," Hermione said quickly, "I have to go talk to Harry." She grabbed her bag and bolted, running after the raven haired teen, leaving Ron behind even more confused than ever.

He sat with Ginny at dinner, Harry and Hermione were still missing.

He found them in the common room, talking quietly by the fire. He made a move to go toward them but Hermione caught his eye before he could get far, a small shake of her head signaling a clear message, 'not now.' Sighing in defeat Ron headed to his dormitory instead.

He tried to do his homework, but he really couldn't concentrate. He tried playing chess with Neville, but even at that he was distracted and actually ended up loosing. Neville asked him if he was okay. It was common knowledge that Ronald Weasley _never_ lost a match of wizards chess, something had to be up. But Ron insisted he was fine and tried to do some homework again instead. Still didn't work.

"Ron?" Ron looked up at the sound of Hermione's voice, his bushy haired friend standing in the doorway.

"Yeah?" Ron asked.

"I need to talk to you," she said calmly, shooting glances toward the other boys in the room. They got the message and left.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"It's Harry," Hermione said, "what about him, is he…?" Hermione shook her head.

"He needs to tell you himself," Hermione said, "but I just need to know that you'll be there for him no matter what."

"Of course!" Ron said.

"Through anything and everything?" Hermione asked.

"Definitely!" Ron said. Hermione gave him a small smile, "but why?" Ron asked.

"Harry needs to tell you himself," she said, "go talk to him, he's in the common room." Ron took the stairs two at a time.

The common room was empty by this time, Ron hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. He found Harry sitting in his favorite chair by the fire.

"Hey mate," Ron said, coming over to him. Harry looked up at him, his eyes full of.. was that fear.

"Hermione said you needed to talk to me, what is it?" Harry turned his head back towards the fire, not speaking for a very long time.

"I'm gay," he said quietly.

"What?" Ron asked.

"I said…" Harry began a bit louder.

"I heard you the first time," Ron said, "I was just surprised, I mean, is that all?"

"Is that all?" Harry looked at him, a little confused.

"Yeah, I mean, was that all you were worried about? C'mon mate, you know you'll always be my best friend."

"That's the problem," Harry grumbled, and Ron could have sworn he said 'that's all you'll ever be' but couldn't be completely sure.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Don't you get it Ron?" Harry said, turning back to look at him, "last night, I heard you talking in your sleep, you kept saying my name, and I thought that, maybe for a minute, that you were... well, but you weren't, and I just… I got so hopeful for a minute that when I realized it was nothing I just…" Harry trailed off, his words muddled and confused, Ron wasn't quite sure what to ma… meaning suddenly dawned on him. Harry thought that he, and that meant that Harry…

"You fancy me," Ron said quietly, the words suddenly seeming more real now that he'd said them alive. Harry just looked up at him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, turning back towards the fire, "I should never have… you probably hate me now, I mean…"

"Well it's about bloody time!" Ron said.

"What?" Harry looked sharply up.

"I was just saying, it's about bloody time you come and tell me."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. Ron just smirked.

"What do you _think_ I mean?" he replied, and then leaned in and kissed Harry flat on the lips.

It wasn't as great as it could have been, but that was mostly because Harry was frozen from shock. Ron pulled away, gazing into his favorite green eyes.

"You mean, you…" Harry stuttered.

"Yes," Ron said, knowing what Harry had been meaning to ask.

"How long?" Harry whispered.

"Always," Ron replied, and kissed him again. Only this time Harry was _definitely_ participating.


End file.
